Jewels
by Digital Skitty
Summary: Ever want to be with your pokemon from the games so badly you could die? We know how you feel.


Author's Note: This is just a random idea I got for a fan fiction. Don't beat me with lab stools if you don't like it or the more sinister tone of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, 'kays?

Beware: Depending on how you interpret it, this story may be a bit evil. Rated PG for safety.

* * *

They were all mine. My precious, beautiful jewels. Ruby, emerald, crystal, all beautiful and pure. And so full of life. Full of so much life and excitement.

Sure, Yellow wasn't quite a jewel, but it was the original. That precious one started it all.

The tiny, pixilated Pikachu following you around and occasionally giving you a piece of her mind is just too adorable. Nidoqueen, Pidgeot, Charizard, Blastoise, Venasaur, Butterfree, all of the adorable pixels accompanying you on your journey. It's simply awesome. The fact that a ten-year-old kid can leave home with a small electric rodent and change the world is mind-boggling. Yet I accomplished it. Numerous times, I might add.

But no matter how many of the pokemon I seem to capture, no matter how many times I beat the game, no matter how many legendaries I add to my teams, there's something lacking.

People say the same things over and over. No one can last more than one turn in a battle. You've completed your Pokedex. The game is finished and perfect.

But there is no greater ennui than perfection.

Oh, how I wish I could be like all those lucky kids in the stories I read. They are magically transported into the pokemon universe, accompanied by living, breathing creatures. Oh, how I long to hold a Pichu in my arms or watch in awe as two fire pokemon have a heated battle. Flying on the back of a dragon across the continent, or magically teleport to some distant city with a beloved psychic pokemon. It would never get boring in a life like that. Always battling, traveling, making new friends, and yet it would never dull.

Instead I stare fondly at the amber colored pixels that are my beloved Blaziken, scrolling down to my Jirachi, Latias and other members of my perfect team. The champion has been beaten dozens of times, all gym leaders have been conquered, the Pokedex is filled to bursting, and Professor Birch must be overwhelmed by all of the pokemon that are sent to his side of the storage system.

I want to be with my jewels so badly. I want to feel the warm feathers of a Torchic, run my hand down the glittering scales of a Seviper, or caress the clouded wings of an Altaria. But it'll never happen. These are just torture devices created to slowly break down one's stamina until they break.

And I'm slowly breaking.

These precious jewels are slowly killing me. They show me what I cannot ever hope to achieve. They are mocking my failure of a life, yet I can succeed in that world. I would be a legend among legends in that world. Everything would be perfect there, yet never get dull.

Too many times have I read about some character somehow getting transported into a game. Too many times have I beaten my game; memorized every pattern and move.

Then, it dawned on me. I can't see why the realization didn't hit me sooner. Perhaps it has gotten boring here because I have beaten this game. Perhaps I need to move onto the next game.

* * *

"…this morning, next to her a scribbled note saying 'I have mastered this game to go onto the next. I have gone to be with my jewels.' No one yet has been able to figure out what this means." The anchorman stated, staring solemnly into the camera. Many different people were watching the news that night, most of them rather sorrowful.

One lady was staring at the TV with a Gameboy in her lap, several games set out in front of her. Another was laughing her head off. A man was crying and swearing incoherently. But the majority of the population noted it with indifference.

Although one little boy was watching the news with great interest. He looked down at the Gameboy in his lap, the crimson cartridge fitted neatly into the slot for the game. He flipped on the switch, staring intently at the introductory flick. He logged onto his account, going slowly and deliberately down the long and full Pokedex list, watching the pixilated sprite of each pokemon slip past.

He shut it off, then turned it back on without elegance or flair. At the menu screen, he pressed several buttons at once, and the screen went blank.

"I guess she didn't know that there's a reset button." The little boy stated.


End file.
